


No More Missions

by BecaAMM



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff, Mutant Powers, Parent Sam Wilson, Pregnancy, reader has wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 02:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13626597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecaAMM/pseuds/BecaAMM
Summary: It’s your last mission before maternity leave and things get a little bit messy.





	No More Missions

“On your right,” Maria warned you from your earpiece, making you jump and kick the man behind you before he could attack you.

“How was that?” you asked, panting as you watched the men on the floor.

“Pretty good for a pregnant lady,” she chuckled.

“Oh, come on, I’m not even showing,” you rolled your eyes, flapping your wings and flying through the corridor.  “I’m… Like… Four months along. Wait, where do I go?”

You frowned, looking between the two lefts in front of you, not sure of where the left was. You could be a hero and all, but had the worst sense of direction.

“Right one,” your friend instructed. “And I think you should rush, there are… Three people running into your direction.”

“Oh great,” you said under your breath, flying once again. “How far are you guys? This place is a maze.”  

This was your last mission,  _one for the run_. In the compound, waiting for you and probably pacing around – and creating a damn hole on the floor – Sam was waiting for you to come back.

“Okay, there is one moving right into you,” Maria warned you. “Watch out.”

[[MORE]]

“Okay,” you looked at your front.

You changed your angle the moment you saw the man, kicking his face and hearing the distinctive sound of his nose breaking before pulling your teaser and pressing against his neck, the potency high enough to knock him out.

“We’re clear,” she announced. “Now go right, there is a window you can use to escape.”

“Is it open?”

She hesitated and you closed your eyes with a sigh.

“Maria…”

“Use your foot, protect your stomach and come fast, there are people approaching us and we need to get out of here as quickly as possible.”

You rolled your eyes but complied. The last time you’ve tried to get into the quinjet while it was flying, you had lost feathers you and you had to wait three weeks for them to grow back, beside the pain of them being ripped from your wings.

“Protect the belly,” she reminded you in a shout. “Starting the jet.”

“Dammit, Maria,” you covered your stomach with your arms, closing your eyes and kicking the window broken, cussing when you felt the glass digging into the skin of your legs, arms and  _wings._

“Fuck,” you shut your eyes, batting your wings harder in order to reach the quinjet before it was off the ground.

“Maria!” you yelled.

“Damn,” she muttered and the door was snapped open. You fell on your back as soon as you were inside but stood up when you realised some of the shards were still in your skin. “You good?”

You sighed, sitting down.

“I’m so ready for maternity leave.”

* * *

You groaned the whole way back to the compound, including the time you got your injuries cleaned and stitched, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Sam.

“Why does it look like you kicked a window open and pulled a wing?” your husband asked the moment you stepped out of the quinjet.

“Yeah… That may or may not have happened,” you scratched the back of your neck.

Sam fixed his eyes on you with his eyebrows raised.

“Okay, no more missions for you,” he walked to your side. “Stretch the wing. Let me see it.”

You sighed, turning your back to him and opening your wings. Currently, each of them was 8 feet and a half long but you knew they would grow if you gained any substantial baby weight in order to fully support your body. When you joined the Avengers, you discovered a lot of things about yourself you didn’t know before – how your skeleton was lighter than the average person your size and age and had a larger strength-to-size ratio. That was probably what put you and Sam together, as studying you actually helped him find the perfect suit and wings for himself.

He moved a hand over your feathers with softness, checking the injury before saying anything.

“You can still fly?” he questioned.

“Yeah, it is just a bit scrapped.”

“Okay, come here,” he moved to your front pulled you by your waist, making you wrap your legs around his waist and hold him close. “I was really worried about you.”

You smiled in response, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“No more missions for you,” he affirmed again.

“No more missions.”


End file.
